


coming up for some air

by peterckomo



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, and pete's kind of a dick, im sure he's not like this irl, joe and patrick don't have to be dating, like this could be platonic, lots of puke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 20:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14064798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterckomo/pseuds/peterckomo
Summary: I got this idea while watching a FOB interview, apparently Patrick was really sick while filming the video for HMTOD, so I decided this might be cute.





	coming up for some air

**Author's Note:**

> This contains vomit, not too graphic. 
> 
> My tumblr is maxamdayss and I totally always want you to leave comments and stuff.

Being sick sucks. It fucking sucks, Patrick had decided.

Patrick was sick. He was /really/ fucking sick. Last week when they made the plans to film, he was fine. Even yesterday, when Pete called to double check that he was coming, he was feeling absolutely fine. But at 3:36 in the morning, Patrick had woken up and vomited up everything he had eaten the previous day. Patrick assumed it was a one off and some Pepto Bismol and sleeping would clear it right up.

When his alarm went off at seven, he immediately ran to the bathroom to puke again. He took his temperature and winced at the feverous number displayed on the thermometer screen. 

Patrick hated canceling plans, but he knew that Pete would understand. Well, he thought he knew. When he dialed Pete’s number, he wasn’t expecting the response he recieved.

“Hey, I can’t come in. Can we reschedule..Or like, I dunno.” Patrick sighed, sniffling. His nose was stuffy now too, he sighed.

“Uh, well- Why? Cause like, we only have the dancers for one day...I don’t think the director will be cool with you missing.”

“I’m sick.” Patrick says, closing his eyes.

“You signed an agreement, Patrick. You gotta stick to your promises.”

Pete knows exactly how to make Patrick feel guilty. Patrick grumbles a “Fine.” into the phone, hanging up and pouting. It’s pathetic, honestly. But, he doesn’t feel good, and he just wants to stay home and watch reruns of Star Trek and pretend the world doesn’t exist. But nooo, because Peter fucking Wentz has to have everything his way and God forbid anybody have to cancel ever. Maybe Pete should remember all the times he used to cancel on the band for dumb reasons, but Patrick turned his cheek at the time.

He knows what the argument would be, Pete would say something like ‘The band doesn’t need me, Patrick. The band needs you, you’re the main guy. I’m just a bassist.’

Which is such a fucking lie, from day one Pete has been the main man. Doesn’t matter who is singing.

But, whatever. Patrick knows what he has to do. He gets up, stumbles to the bathroom, and pulls on a pair of jeans over his slept in boxers. He grabs a white shirt, something he can easily change in and out of once he gets to set. He doesn’t touch his hair, throwing a cap on his head and placing his glasses up his nose, before grabbing his keys. He can hear his mom, in the back of his head, telling him that he’s in no condition to drive, but he has to.

The drive there is miserable, traffic is horrendous and Patrick’s stomach keeps twisting and turning. He pulls over four times on the side of the road to vomit. One time, a jogger is passing by and throws him a dirty look. Patrick’s not one for being rude in public, but he might’ve flipped that guy off.

When he finally arrives to set, it’s an half an hour late. Pete’s throwing him dirty looks from the moment he arrives, and keeps doing it all throughout hair and makeup. Which, he pukes twice during. Thank god that Amber, the cosmetics girl, is nice to him. When they get out to the actual filming area, Pete is still flashing him dirty looks. Joe is busy fiddling with his guitar, and Andy is off somewhere doing something. Patrick doesn’t have time to think about it, because he’s running for the nearest garbage can, vomiting into it.

This must have caught Joe’s attention, because once Patrick’s finished, Joe is helping him up. 

“Dude.” Joe says, “You okay?”

“ ‘m fine.” Patrick says, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. Joe makes a grossed out face in response.

“You need to sit- or something. I’ll grab you a water.”

“C’mon, Patrick. Joe. We need you.” Pete calls, walking over to them.

“Dude, Patrick just hurled. I think- I think maybe he should sit down. Take a break.” Joe says to him, placing a hand on Patrick’s shoulder.

“A break?” Pete says, frowning and raising an eyebrow, “Dude hasn’t done one fucking thing since he’s gotten here and he wants a fucking /break/?”

Joe frowns, and Patrick does as well, before shaking his head. “No break..I’m fine.”

And then, Pete’s rushing them over to their places. Patrick knows he means well, Pete’s only a dick when he’s anxious, like really anxious. Patrick knows Pete must be anxious and this all must be horrible for him and stuff. Luckily, Patrick can make a couple of takes before he’s vomiting in the trash (again.)

Just like the first time, Joe is there, comforting him. When he finishes, Joe sighs softly. 

“Dude, you’re so fucking pale. Have you eaten or drank at all today?” He asks. Patrick shakes his head, his eyes are hazy, and Joe hates to admit that Patrick’s eyes are more beautiful when he’s sick. 

Joe leads Patrick to a chair, before walking over to Pete.

“Dude, he can’t fucking film anymore. He’s so fucking sick. If he stays he’ll get everybody else sick too. Is that what you want? A band who has to cancel all the press interviews next week because you couldn’t let him go home?”

Pete sighs, “Fine. Okay- Whatever. The managers gonna be fucking pissed, but whatever. Hopefully we can reschedule the dancers, and the crew and the-” Joe cuts him off.

“Okay, great. I’m driving him, home. Bye.” He walks over to Patrick, helping him up and leading him into the dressing room. “Can’t take off with these clothes. Gotta get dressed.”

“I- I can dress myself.” Patrick says, and it’s hard for Joe to tell if how he says it is sad, or adorable. 

“It’s okay, Patrick. Have you got boxers on?” He asks, and Patrick nods in response. “Okay, then it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He laughs, helping Patrick into the chair and pulling the clothes off, before replacing them with his casual clothing.

“Alright, come on. I’ll drive you home, and you can rest.” Joe nods, taking Patrick’s hand and helping him up.

“Yeah, I’ll rest up. Alone.” Patrick sniffles.

Joe frowns, but pulls Patrick closer anyway. “I got you, dude.”

-

The rest of the day, for Patrick at least, goes in a blur. He remembers Joe taking him home, making him eat some soup, and then giving him some medicine. Then, he’s passed out on his couch while Joe sits on the end, watching the television. 

When he does wake back up, Joe smiles over at him. 

Being sick doesn’t suck so bad after all.


End file.
